My brain thinks differently than the rest of the world. These are those thoughts.

Tag Archives: Humor

I’ve been very busy as you can tell by my 1+ year hiatus from here. And when I say very busy, I really just mean I haven’t really been feeling creative and/or I’ve been putting my creative energies into other things and/or I forgot about this blog until someone said I should write a book today then I remembered it existed. But that’s not to say I haven’t used my hiatus very efficiently. I’ve done lots of things, lots and lots of things, for instance I’ve recently taken up the practice of yoga.

I’m not new to yoga, per say, in the sense that I’ve done yoga for several years on the wii fit. In Amanda’s world anything you do on the wii fit is real and totally helpful to your physical fitness. So naturally the transition process to what I now refer to as ‘real yoga’ went a bit like this “Yoga is so easy! I can definitely do yoga! I’m going to go straight to Target right now and a buy a dvd.” And that’s exactly what I did.

Many yoga dvd’s they have at the Target, many different kinds. Being that I’m not one to deny a challenge I chose to purchase the most difficult yoga dvd they had; Jillian Michael’s Yoga Meltdown. I should have known better. The first sign that this was a bad choice was the “Jillian Michaels” part. The second would be the “meltdown”. As a newbie I should have chosen the dvd labeled solely “Yoga”, but I didn’t, because I’m Amanda, and I was convinced I was not a newbie.

I brought Jillian home, popped her right in the DVD player and got started, immediately I realized I was a newbie, I didn’t even have a yoga mat, I fell over at least 5 times and cursed just as many. Of course I went back to the store and bought a mat immediately because clearly the lack of a rubber foam beneath me was the reason I couldn’t do a downward dog. It had absolutely nothing to do with my completely lack of balance and flexibility. Since that evening I’ve spent many excruciatingly embarrassing months with Jillian before I finally threw up my white flag and admitted to being inflexible. Apparently yoga is supposed make you flexible and relaxed, not cause you to shout expletives. Who knew?

Yoga Studio has many different classes you can do, ranging anywhere from beginner flexibility to advanced strength in which the first pose looks something like this:

Obviously something along the lines of “HOLY POOP!” came out of my mouth when I saw that pose so I stepped it back into the intermediate range (clearly I’m still not fully accepting my beginner status) and chose the 60 minute intermediate flexibility class, thinking to myself, “Technically, not a beginner because I’ve been doing Jillian, I know how yoga works. Plus flexibility is mostly going to be stretches so I want to get all the physical fitness I can. I’ll go with an hour”

BAD CHOICE AMANDA!

From the beginning of the class I’m supposed to be focusing on only my breathing, clearing my mind, preparing myself for a deep 60 minute yoga experience. Nope. Not once was my mind clear. Not one time.

Here’s just a small sampling of the things I said and/or thought through my entire 60 minute session:

“Ha! Yeah okay”
“No, I’m not going to do that.”
“ARE YOU KIDDING?”
“Ummm….I think my leg is ripping in half.”
“Downward dog again?!?”
“@#$#!%”
“Corpse pose*! I’m good at this one!”
“No seriously, I really think my quad is ripping in half this time.”
“Yeah, no, I can’t do that.”
“If I could touch my toes, I wouldn’t need the flexibility class.”
“I wonder how often people release gas during the happy baby pose?”
“Holy crap it’s only been 30 minutes?!?! UGHHHH!!”
“I can’t breathe, my lungs are being crushed!”
“…..nope.”
“What if someone is taller than the yoga mat? Do they make extra long mats for those people.”
“Oh shoot! I’m supposed to clear my mind…..”
“I physically CANNOT do that!”
“Is she even a person?”
“Is her spine intact?”
“Ahhh how can I relax if I can’t breathe and my leg muscle has just torn apart?”
and finally
“Okay, that’ll be good. I’m done now.”

So, all that said, yoga is going well!! I’m super good at the ‘relaxing and letting my mind be free’ part as you can see. I should also definitely attend a public session, my comments would not disturb anyone I’m sure.

BUT I can touch my toes now and even balance on one foot while holding up the other as if I were a human pretzel. If that’s not yoga, I don’t know what is. I’d say I’m pretty close to being a professional yogi now and I’m even thinking of taking up a partnership with Jillian, if she’s willing of course.

Until my dvd deal comes through, I’ll just be over here trying to reach my toes to the back of my head without pulling a hammy!

Confession: I do stupid things all the time without even trying. I’m just really good at being awkward and ridiculous. Today this delightful quality of mine reached a new level of stupidity. And because I am who I am I’d like to share it with you. Clearly I’m not ashamed of myself.

Join me, as we venture into my head and experience this lovely time I had through my eyes. If you don’t think you’re ready to enter my head I suggest you stop reading now. (Also if you aren’t ready to enter my head you should probably never read this blog. Just a FYI)

A little background before we begin: everyday when I return to work from my lunch break I use the restroom. Even if I don’t have to, I go because that’s who I am. I do the same thing everyday just because I am Amanda.

We’ll start our journey here as I enter the building:

I’m a little early to clock back in so I’ll just go to the bathroom.

This is how I justify doing the exact same thing everyday. I’m not fooling anyone though. I’m insane

Oh. There’s the cook lady who likes to pat my back. I don’t care for that but I’ll smile and nod at her as I walk by. Hey cook lady! Don’t touch me! Also, why does she wear that strange hat? Probably so she doesn’t get hair in the sandwiches that the children eat everyday. Oh well. To the restroom I go.

I need to put my water bottle somewhere. Should I set it on this bench outside of the bathroom. Nah. I’ll just take it in the bathroom and set it on the counter. No one will touch it because no one will even be in there. Oh shoot. It sounds like someone is in there. Eh. If they see me set my bottle down they won’t touch it. I wonder who’s in there anyways?

Oh I think it’s someone fixing the soap dispenser that keeps falling off the wall. It’s about time. That thing’s annoying! Probably it’s my boss. It’ll be kinda weird using the bathroom while she’s in there fixing that but I’ll make do. It’ll be fine.

At this point I cross the threshold of the bathroom.

OH CRAP. THAT’S A MAN. THAT IS A MAN FIXING THE SOAP DISPENSER. THERE IS A MAN IN THE GIRL’S BATHROOM.

I can’t turn around now. He’s already seen me. He’ll think it’s weird if I see him and turn around immediately (He would not have)

I’ll just walk on in there and pretend I’m doing something important. (This was the wrong decision)

OH CRAP OH CRAP OH CRAP. Now I’m all the way in the bathroom. What do I do now? Ummmmmmmm……crap crap crap crap. Just keep walking Amanda. Don’t look at him. Wait. Why do I keep walking towards the stalls. I’m not really going to pee with him in here am I? How am I gonna play this off? Oh man. Now he thinks I’m disgusting!!

Then the man interrupted my panicked thoughts by asking/shouting, “Do you need me to step out for a second?” In other words, “Is this moron really going to go pee while I’m in here? Are you serious? What kind of idiot is this girl? Did she not see me here? What a moron.”

Oh shoot! What do I say. I don’t want to say yes. That’d be weird. Ummm…I’ve got it:

“NOPE. You’re fine. I just need to blow my nose.”

Blow my nose?? What the heck? I don’t need to blow my nose. Oh shoot. Now I have to blow my nose. And why didn’t I say something grown-up like, “Nope. Just getting a tissue.” I have to blow my nose?? What am I? 5? Crap. Well guess I’ll just walk into this stall and get some toilet paper….because that’s how grown-ups ‘blow their noses’, I guess.

Yep. There’s nothing coming out my nose. This guy knows I’m bluffing. I didn’t need to blow my nose. I have got to get out of here. This is just ridiculous now. Ok. Well, guess I’ll just walk on by him now. Ok. Here I go. Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me. See ya later soap dispenser repair man guy. Made it!! My gosh. What is wrong with me? How much more awkward could a person get? Oh man….I still need to pee.

Literally this whole thing took place in a time frame of about 45 seconds. It felt like many, many more. Why I didn’t just turn around and leave as soon as I saw someone in the bathroom, I do not know. And what was I going to do if I made it all the way to a stall without the guy saying anything? I don’t know, surely I wasn’t going to use it. But who knows. All I know is that afterwards I proceeded to enter the men’s restroom…and use it. Because I am a moron.

So I guess what I’m getting at is that I played that whole thing of really smooth. (No I didn’t)

There’s no way that guy thought I was a moron. (Yes there is)

I’m not sure how I don’t have a husband yet because I’m a super great catch. (That’s questionable)I mean, if my life were a chick flick I would probably have fallen in love with that repair man. We would be frolicking about downtown Nashville right this second. But since my life is not a Hollywood movie, I’m sitting on the couch watching How I Met Your Mother and replaying this same scenario over and over in my head, questioning why I allowed it to play out the way it did. And I keep coming to the same conclusion: because I’m Amanda. I’m an idiot.

And since I can’t escape myself I’ll just hope some man find my awkwardness endearing and falls in love with me, but I’m sure it’s not going to be that soap dispenser guy. Pretty positive he think’s I’m an idiot.

Every day I spend 9 of my waking hours with a classroom of nine delightful 3 year olds. (as if I didn’t have enough trouble conversing with adults most of my human interaction is with tiny people who cannot read or write their names) I do my best to be the mature one in the room and teach them delightful life skills. Most of the time I fail though and they just leave me sitting idly with a quizzical look on my face because they say really, really weird things sometimes. 99% of the time I have no idea how to respond because the things they say are so ludicrous. I’m not even sure they’re living in the same world as me at times. But I do my best to give the adult response to the situation at hand.

They look normal right? WRONG. They are aliens in tiny human suits.

Here is what I deal with on a daily basis:

“Miss Amanda. I want to read a book to my hat.”

What I wanted to say: “Uh ok. Weirdo. Don’t you have any friends you can read to? You know that hat is not a person right? You are a very strange little person. And if you keep reading books to a hat you’ll probably alienate those around you and you’ll be stuck with just your hat for the rest of your life.”

What I really said: “Uh ok.”

“You’re not comin’ to my party!”

What I wanted to say: “You are 3 years old. How many parties can you possibly have? Your birthday was 4 months ago. So obviously you’re not having a birthday party. Maybe she doesn’t even want to come to your party. Have you ever considered that?”

What I really said: “[Undisclosed name] please be nice to your friends and use kind words.”

“You’re not my friend!”

What I want to say: “Well if you’re going to be like that they probably don’t want to be your friend. I wouldn’t want to be. Especially if you end friendships over something like digging for worms. That’s just ridiculous.”

What I really say: “We’re all friends here. Please be kind to my friends.”

“Miss Amanda!! He just said BOOTY/BUTT!!”

What I wanted to say: “SO DID YOU, SO STOP TATTLING ABOUT THIS EVERYDAY!! Pick a new thing to do. I’m getting bored. And every time you tattle about someone saying a ‘nasty’ word you say it too. So you might as well tattle about yourself while you are at it.”

What I really said: “[Undisclosed name] we don’t say that word here. Please use nice words.”

“Hey will you hold my coconut and rock?”

What I wanted to say: “I’m sorry? What did you just ask? You do know that’s not a coconut right? That’s an acorn. And why am I holding these? What are you doing? Am I your servant?”

What I really said: “Sure.”

“I’m calling my mom!! Don’t look at my window!”

What I wanted to say: “Are you on drugs? That’s a piece of mulch, not a phone. Also there is no window there. You are so very strange.”

What I really said: “Ok?”

“Miss AMMAAANDDA! She said ‘EEEEEEHHHHHH!!!’ at me!”

What I wanted to say: “Are you seriously tattling about this? Oh my goodness. You will never survive in the real world if you think this is the worst problem ever.”

What I really said: First I laughed really hard. I couldn’t hold it in on this one. It was too much for me to handle. Plus I had already drank 2 cups of coffee and was slowly losing my mind. Then I said. “[Undisclosed name] please use an indoor voice and don’t yell.”

After all these conversations I really have no idea how I maintain my sanity.

Actually, I take that back. I no longer have my sanity and that’s how I survive. I have the mentality of a 3 year old. And that’s probably also why I was just laying in the middle of the floor for absolutely no purpose. I’ve already lost my mind and there’s no turning back now.

Please don’t stop being my friend when then institutionalize me. I need all the adult interaction I can to counteract this insanity.

I know many people love you and your neat abilities to do lots of things at once. You make phone calls. I can Wikipedia on you. When I have a question I can just use you to look it up immediately. But I think I might hate you. I know what you’re thinking, “Who hates phones? They help people stay in contact with loved ones who are far distances away. You can talk to them like they’re right next to you even when they’re 3 trillion miles away. And why did you title this blog ‘a love story’ if you hate me? You’re such a weirdo.” Well first of all iPhone, those are very valid reason for your existence and I appreciate the work you do for me. But there are three main reasons for this hatred of you.

Reason #1: People Call Me
I enjoy talking to people mostly. Ok, no that’s a lie. I don’t really enjoy talking to people. I do, but I don’t. It really just depends on the setting. (also I tend to be really indecisive) To me talking on the phone is like being stuck in an empty room with another person. We’re both there, we both know the other one is there and someone (who is not me) decides a conversation needs to happen. I’m perfectly content with the awkward silence but noooo, we need to talk to each other. So then we participate in that tragic event know as small talk. I hate small talk as much as I hate phones. “Oh, how are you? blah blah blah it’s cold outside, what’s new?” So stupid. (ask my opinion on the Jersey Shore and I’ll talk for hours, that’s no small talk) And I’m just really terrible at small talk. Ask me any question, I respond with one word. It’s my little cross to bear. So let’s take my incredible lack of small talk skills and add the lack of visual cues, then you have a phone call with me. I’m almost positive that every conversation I have on the phone, the person on the other side is rolling their eyes and mocking me. I don’t have a logical reason for thinking this. Perhaps it’s paranoia. (it could also be because I may, or may not be guilty of phone mocking a time or two) But because I can’t see a person’s face on the phone I just know they’re mocking my every word.

Reason #2: People Text Me
Now I would much rather text someone than talk to them on the phone but there is way too much pressure involved in it. Someone texts me pictures of their new baby I respond “OH SO CUTE!!!!!!!!” with too many exclamation points, I’m a creeper, too few exclamation points, I hate their baby. If I respond too quickly to a message I seem desperate and lonely, if I wait too long I’m a jerk. If I write ‘lol’ at the wrong time, we’re no longer friends because I laughed at the fact that your grandma died. So. Much. Pressure. And to top it all off, my sarcasm is not read through texts at all. I’m sure I’ve probably offended people a time or two because of my sarcastic responses. So I’ve taken to throwing a ‘ha’ at the end of sarcasm. But that makes me feel conceited, because then I’m laughing at myself. And I tend to get too wordy on messages. No one wants to read a novel when all they ask is ‘what’s up’. But if I respond with ‘not much. you?’ then I seem disinterested. Do you see what I mean? What is proper texting etiquette? Are there classes for this? Can I learn the proper way to text without pitting out a t-shirt because I’m worrying about responding properly? Seriously. I can’t handle the pressure. Many different times I have rewritten a message at least 12 times because I tend to over-think things, therefore I’m convinced everything I say is over-thought by the person who receives it….I might need counseling.

Reason #3: I No Longer Have Time-Management Skills
Since the conception of the smartphone, I can play games everywhere I go. This doesn’t seem like a bad thing, but it is. All those past times when I’ve had to utilize the skill of ‘patience’ are no more. Now if I have to wait somewhere, I just pull out my phone and play some Angry Birds. Next thing you know I’ve been sitting at the dentist for 3 hours. It only felt like 15 and now I’ve completely missed them calling my name and my teeth will be dirty for another week. Smartphones have also increased the amount of time I spend in the bathroom. I swear I spend hours in there now playing Words With Friends. I go in when the sun is up and come out to darkness. I’m out of control. I can’t stop running from those darn demon monkeys until I’ve beaten my high-score on Temple Run. Heaven forbid my phone dies when I’m out somewhere. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore if I have to wait. There’s a good chance I might just have a panic attack if I have to wait for a table at a restaurant and I can’t play Doodle Jump. It’s eating away my life!

All that being said I still love you. If someone tries to take you away, I will hit them. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I hate everything about you, but I don’t ever want to be away from you. It’s like you’re my child. You’re annoying, loud, and you follow me everywhere I go. But I still love you, in spite of all your flaws. I never want you to leave me.